Sybil looped her arm through mine as if I’d known her for years. “Sir Griffin thought you might like a friendly face to show you to the arena.”
“Who?” The first word I’d spoken to a lady and I sounded like an owl.
“You don’t know who Sir Griffin is?”
“Should I?”
“He won the tournament last year at sixteen. Youngest ever. Tall. Dark. Had a stitched fresh wound on his face. Do you not remember him . . . from last night?”
I knew exactly who he was . . . she was talking about the heckling fool. The one who tried to tell me I was safe within these walls. I’d thought him older than me, but we were the same age. “Figures that blathering blockhead would be King Umbert’s champion.” I let go of her arm. “I recollect telling him to stay away from me.”
Sybil wrinkled her freckled nose. “I don’t blame you. He was a prick last night. My brothers are the same, Cornwall more than Malcolm. All men are blathering blockheads and unworthy of our time, if you ask me.”
“Prick? Are ladies allowed to speak that way?”
“Ladies can do whatever they want, but you will find I’m not much of a lady when you get to know me.”
“You two will get along swimmingly, then. Neither is she.” Sir Raleigh appeared at the door, standing stiffly. He kept his hand on the pommel of the sword hanging from his belt, not in a menacing way but because it seemed his natural stance. Road dust clung to his black leather tunic and trousers. He either didn’t care or didn’t have time to clean up. I guessed the latter. He was always around. Always watching. Always seeing more than he should.
“This is becoming old, Sir Raleigh. Don’t worry. I’m not going to burn the place down.”
He arched a brow. “Not yet, but given time, I have a feeling that you will. And my instincts are never wrong. Time to go.”
As I passed by, Raleigh stopped me at the door and knelt. He lifted the skirts of my dress.
“This is highly inappropriate, Sir Raleigh.”
“You won’t need this, Maggie.” He pulled my knife out of my boot.
Sybil yanked one out of her boot, resting it on Raleigh’s bald head. “A woman needs protection. Give it back.”
Raleigh glanced up at me, wearing a knowing smirk. “Moldark is assigned to you, Maggie. He may recognize it.”
“What’s he talking about?” Sybil asked.
“Long story.” I groaned because Raleigh was right. I took the knife and tossed it into the fire. The wooden handle caught. “That’s the end of that, then.”
In the hallway, I saw Sir Raleigh give Petal a coin and a pat on the head.
“She nearly ripped out all of my hair,” I called to him.
“Yeah, well, it was quite the task I put upon the little thing.” He waved, giving Petal her leave.
“What task was that? Turn me into a lady?”
“That would be asking too much of anyone. Told her to make you smell less like a pile of dung. No need for everyone around you to be punished.”
Along the corridor, soldiers joined us. One of them was the size of a tree with greasy black hair and missing teeth who walked with a pronounced limp. Moldark.
“My ladies.” He bowed, but his eyes admired Lady Sybil in a way that made me uncomfortable.
Raleigh set a stiff hand on my shoulder. “Maggie, you will be followed everywhere you go.”
“Is all this really necessary, Sir Raleigh?” Lady Sybil said.
“Yes. I’m hardly worthy of all this . . . attention.” I tried to imitate her smile but had a feeling I looked less than sincere.
Raleigh leaned over me. “Prince’s orders. He considers you very worthy, Maggie. You would do well to show him your gratitude by holding that sharp tongue.”
With Sir Raleigh in the lead to our destination and Moldark and the others lagging behind, there would be no escape, for now.
The old knight moved at a fevered pace out of the castle, down the steps into the courtyard, and through the fortress gates that separated the king from the Walled City. He never glanced over his shoulder to see if I was still behind him, but I got the feeling he didn’t have to.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Sybil said as we fell in step with exuberant crowds.
The air was crisp, the skies a delicate blue. The sun was beaming, but it was the moon I felt, dancing on my shoulders, chilling my palms, leaving them tingling as if saying good morning. The feeling was strange but growing more familiar, and thrilling. I wanted desperately to try something else. I longed for the sanctuary of the caves on the beaches, or the deep woods where I would get lost when Xavier wanted rid of me for a day. I would be trying all sorts of things. Drawing a bird with moonlight. Making it take flight. Now, that would be something.
As I padded through the crowded streets, guarded like I mattered, there were too many eyes. I couldn’t do anything with all of them seeing. Even still, it gave me a kind of confidence I’d never felt before, as if I had a secret weapon in my pocket. “It is a beautiful day.”
Although we moved swiftly, it would take time to get to the arena. Time I could use to look for the draignoch’s keep. Ten minutes into the walk, I recognized nothing from last night’s trip into the city. Everything looked different in daylight.
So, I asked Sybil.
“I don’t know where the keep is. Sorry. I know very little about this place. Until a couple of days ago, my home was in the North. I thought I would be returning there with my father and brothers after the wedding, but apparently, I’m to stay here with Esmera.” She sounded dismayed.
“Wedding?”
“My sister, Lady Esmera, is betrothed to Prince Jori.”
“Your father is Laird Egrid? Chieftain of the North?”
“You know the North?” Sybil smiled warmly. She was fond of home.
“Never been. Like to, though. Only heard bits about it on the road. What happens when your sister marries the prince?”
“My father will no longer be laird. The North becomes . . . encumbered.” Sybil fingers gripped my arm harder.
Encumbered was the right word for it. “Why would your father do that? Hand your lands over to King Umbert? Did you not ride through the Hinterlands on your way here? You see how he treats his people.”
Her eyes on the ground lifted to find mine. “He fears for our safety, I think. My father’s not in good health. Our armies aren’t as vast as they once were either.”
“He brought you into a lion’s den. One with no escape.” I nodded to the giant impenetrable wall.
“You sound like my brother Malcolm. And”—she glanced back at the soldiers, checking their distance, and whispered—“he’s right. But my father trusts the king.”
I huffed a laugh. “Probably get him killed.”
Sybil’s face fell, and she nodded. For the first time in a long time, I regretted my words. Strife among the ruling families frequently ended in bloodshed. And a father was a father, even if he was a laird. “I’ve gone one step too far. I have a knack for that, it seems. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said.
After that we walked in uncomfortable silence.
The oval-shaped monolithic stadium butted up against the wall surrounding the city. I paused to take it in. In all my travels, I had never seen anything with such impressive engineering. As the city descended the high mount, so did the exterior wall to the arena. The city and stadium were separated by fifty feet at the Top, decreasing in length as the hill expanded.